


nobody puts kitty in the corner

by thunderylee



Category: Johnny's WEST
Genre: Canon Universe, Cat/Human Hybrids, Gen, Magic, member love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2019-01-15 17:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12325347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: All Kotaki wants is someone to pet him.





	nobody puts kitty in the corner

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for je-wakamono 2014.

The world looks smaller from so high up. He’s not the tallest person in Japan, but he’s certainly one of the few graced with the tops of everyone  _else’s_ heads as he walks down the street. It’s not really much to look at.  
  
Doorways are especially evil. He’s gotten used to ducking, even in corporate buildings, and he may as well be a hunchback when walking under trees. It’s almost enough to affect his posture, not to mention the impulse to slouch when he sits between Akito and Junta and feels like a giant ogre.  
  
Once Ryuusei and the others are added to the group, it’s not as bad. Ryuusei especially, since Kotaki can almost look him in the eye without straining his neck. Fans call them the twin towers and it makes Kotaki want to stand taller, feeling a little more balanced with his shorter and much older band mates.  
  
He still stands out, though, especially when he looks in the mirror and sees that he has sprouted furry ears and a tail.  
  
“Oh, come on!” he yells to his reflection, frowning as the ears fold to match his mood. He usually doesn’t have a lot of teenage angst, but the moon must be in the house of bitch or something because he’s ready to scratch someone right now.  
  
In a fit of panic, he looks at his hands and is grateful to see that there aren’t any paws. Just his regular hands, huge like normal, balling into fists as he sees a long, bushy tail swish angrily behind him. He doesn’t have to look to see that it belongs to him, all too aware of the draft on his backside from the tail sticking out over the back of his pants.  
  
“Non-chan, what are you yelling abou—”  
  
Kotaki’s hiss is automatic, his eyes widening at the impulse as he recognizes the intruder by voice. Of course it has to be Akito, with his big mouth who will make sure that the entire agency knows about Kotaki’s new…parts within the hour. He braces himself for that familiar boisterous laugh, maybe a comment about going into heat or other female equivalent words that those perverts like to throw around.  
  
But Akito’s lips are straight, his eyes just as wide as Kotaki’s as he stays where he is and lifts both hands in surrender. “Junta?”  
  
“I’m Nozomu,” Kotaki snaps.  
  
“I know that.” Akito takes a step back, nearly flattening himself against the wall. “I’m calling Junta, because he will know what to do. Junta!”  
  
Their unofficial leader pokes his head in the door with a big smile, which falls the instant he sees Kotaki. “What happened to you?”  
  
“He’s scary,” Akito whispers, hiding behind his long-time partner. “And mad.”  
  
“I don’t know,” Kotaki answers, and Junta seems to look relieved that he’s not meowing. “I just looked in the mirror and there they were.”  
  
His ears twitch uncomfortably as Junta examines them, still a safe distance away. Then his eyes lower to Kotaki’s tail, which darts from side to side and makes Kotaki even more restless.  
  
“Are you in pain?” Junta asks carefully, and this time Kotaki’s entire body twitches. “Do you need medicine?”  
  
“I’m okay, just…” Kotaki trails off, not sure how to explain this influx of tension coursing through him. “I feel like I could run a hundred laps around the building right now.”  
  
Junta blinks. “Of course. You’re a cat.”  
  
As if on cue, Akito lights up. “Oh!”  
  
Kotaki is still trying to figure out their weird mental wavelength when Akito snatches Kotaki’s bag and high-tails it out of the room. Kotaki gives chase immediately, already halfway down the hall before his brain catches up with him, barely advancing on Akito and his road-runner speed despite his own long legs.  
  
Ordinarily an abnormally tall man with furry ears and a tail racing through an office building would draw attention, but not here. If he got any second glances at all, it would be from a junior not well-acquainted with anyone Kansai and he would probably just wonder why Kotaki-senpai was pretending to be a cat. Anyone else would assume that Johnny’s West were bonding as a new group by picking on their youngest.  
  
Akito’s packed with muscles and they’re not for show, leading Kotaki around the entire building three times before Kotaki starts to lose his will to fight. Suddenly his bag isn’t worth all of this effort and he collapses to the floor in the front of Kisumai’s room, rushing to push his sweaty hair out of his face and freezing at the weird sensation he gets when he touches his new ears.  
  
“What is this,  _Loveless_  cosplay?” Kitayama asks, his tone innocent but his face guilty of everything that question implies. “I didn’t think there were any virgins left in your neck of the woods.”  
  
Kotaki growls, but he doesn’t have any strength left to move. He gets as far as sitting on his knees, slumping against the wall right outside the doorway, which he feels is a step up from curling up right there on the dirty tile.  
  
“Careful, he’s feral,” Akito says, not even out of breath as he jogs up to the oldest Kisumai member. “He hasn’t had his shots.”  
  
Kitayama doesn’t even have to lean down to pat Kotaki on the head, scratching between his ears. “Good kitty.”  
  
Kotaki’s first instinct is to lash out despite his fatigue, but the touch actually feels really nice and he pushes his head against Kitayama’s hand, pointedly asking for more. Kitayama grins and it’s probably the only time Kotaki has ever looked up to him, ignoring his smug face in favor of the pressure of strong fingers on his scalp.  
  
“Looks like someone isn’t taking care of their baby,” Kitayama says, shaking his head at Akito. “Do I need to show you how it’s done?”  
  
Now Akito is the one narrowing his eyes. “We take care of him just fine. Hands off—he’s not legal, you know.”  
  
Kitayama rolls his eyes. “Because that matters around here.”  
  
Kotaki learns for himself of Akito’s superhuman strength when he’s yanked right to his feet by one arm. Kitayama’s gentle touch disappears, which pulls an embarrassing whine from Kotaki’s throat, but then Akito is dragging him down the hall and now it looks to all the agency like Kotaki had gotten in trouble.  
  
He feels like he’s in trouble when Akito flings him onto the couch once they’re safely behind closed doors. “Don’t let creepy Tokyo guys pet you!” Akito barks, angrier than Kotaki has ever seen him.  
  
“Who’s going to pet me then?” Kotaki contests without thinking, realizing what he just said after it’s too late to take back. His face heats up a little at the admission, but he’s upset enough to override his shame and he meets Akito’s eyes with a hard stare. “None of you will touch me since I’m underage. You can’t go to jail for a hug, you know. All I want is some physical affection. Is that too much to ask?”  
  
“Is that really how you feel?” another voice pipes up from behind Kotaki, and he doesn’t have to turn around to know who that is either. The couch dips with Shige’s weight and Kotaki leans toward him automatically, seeking out the body heat. “Non-chan, we don’t leave you alone because of your age. You rarely initiate it, so we didn’t think you liked that sort of stuff.”  
  
“Actually, I think I know what happened,” Ryuusei speaks up. “Since Non-chan is so tall, it’s natural that he should be the one to give the affection, but since he’s so young he’s the one who wants it to be given to him.”  
  
“Something like that,” Kotaki mumbles, suddenly sleepy now that Shige’s warmth is spreading throughout his limbs. He practically crawls into Shige’s lap, which probably looks ridiculous with their size difference, but right now he doesn’t care. “It’s embarrassing to ask you to pet me.”  
  
“You don’t have to ask again,” Shige tells him, and fingers return to his head, more familiar and gentle as Shige scopes out different places before stroking Kotaki’s ears. “Is this okay?”  
  
A low rumbling in Kotaki’s chest serves as an answer, his tail wrapping around him as he curls up the best he can and closes his eyes.  
  
“This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Kamiyama announces, his voice sounding so far away in Kotaki’s fuzzy mind.  
  
“They’re so soft,” Shige says, pinching the tips until Kotaki elbows him in the gut. “Okay, okay.”  
  
“Demanding kitten.” Junta sounds like he’s right in Kotaki’s face, a peek of one eye confirming it. “Can I touch, too?”  
  
“You all can touch me whenever you want,” Kotaki gives blanket permission, and he can’t even be bothered by how filthy that had come out because now there are three more hands on him, stroking his hair and rubbing his back. He doesn’t know whose hands are whose and doesn’t really care, rolling around to accommodate for all the attention as he purrs loud enough to echo in his own head.  
  
Someone lifts up his entire back end to sit beneath him, and that has to be Akito. He jumps when he feels pressure on his tail, but Akito stays to the far end of it and it feels really good, the thumping ceasing as Akito smoothes out his fur. It makes Kotaki wish he had fur all over, because then it would be okay for them to touch more of his skin, but he can’t find it in himself to complain with five people petting him at once.  
  
Five…Kotaki slits open his eyes to see Hamada standing a short distance away, watching them with a smirk on his face. “You, sir, are not excluded from this group bonding session,” Kotaki says firmly.  
  
“There’s no room for me,” Hamada replies casually.  
  
Kotaki looks around at Kamiyama and Ryuusei leaning over the back of the couch, Akito and Shige on either side of him, and Junta kneeling before him. Then he looks back at Hamada and wordlessly opens his arms, feeling even warmer when Hamada falls right into them without hesitation, fitting neatly on top of him.  
  
“You fuckers are heavy,” Akito comments. Hamada responds with a bounce. “Careful, he’s still seventeen.”  
  
Hamada snorts into Kotaki’s neck. “I’m the least of your worries in this group.”  
  
“What is that supposed to mean?” Akito asks, but Kotaki is laughing so hard that he’s shaking the entire couch.  
  
“It’s cute how you want to protect my virtue,” Kotaki tells him, reaching out to cover Akito’s hand with his.  
  
“Well, you are the one with the cat ears,” Akito replies, lacing their fingers together over Hamada’s back. “That Kitayama might have been onto something after all.”  
  
Kitayama had not been onto anything, but Kotaki lets them think what they want as he succumbs to sleep from the combined petting of his band mates and the deep rhythm of his purrs.


End file.
